


Interlude

by mnemosyne23



Category: Lost
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-05
Updated: 2004-12-05
Packaged: 2020-03-08 06:41:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18889228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnemosyne23/pseuds/mnemosyne23
Summary: A sexy little piece involving stripping, candlelight, and some much needed privacy.





	Interlude

_You make me feel like splendor in the grass where we're rolling  
**Damn skippy baby**  
you make me feel like the Amazon's running between my thighs…._

_~Paula Cole, "Feelin' Love"~_

 

 

Charlie missed the limelight. Yes, it had led to all kinds of overindulgence and excess, and had given him a nasty heroin addiction taboot, but he still MISSED it. He missed the screaming crowds, the smoky atmosphere, the technicolor dream lights, everything. Even Liam -- especially Liam.

Here on the island, the limelight at best meant nothing, at worst meant something had happened to you and everyone was struggling to keep you alive. Nine months they'd been here, and in that nine months Charlie had kicked his habit, seen a baby born, made the best friends of his life, and fallen in love (in no particular order). But he still missed the attention of an adoring crowd. And he really, REALLY wanted to sing.

Hurley was helping him make sleeping mats today. The palm fronds of which they were woven were strong and durable, but only lasted a month or two before needing to be replaced. It was a tedious process, but it kept the hands busy and the mind free, and Charlie let his thoughts wander over his favorite songs, trying to remember snippets of a chorus or the bass line of a bridge. "You All, Everybody" was pushed to the background as other songs crowded forward in his memory, fighting for dominance.

" _Love is like a bomb, baby come on get it on,_ " he sang absently, weaving the fibrous tendrils of his palm leaves together. " _Livin' like a lover with a radar phone…_ " His foot began to tap idly in time with the beat. " _Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp…_ " He'd always loved that line, since he was a kid. " _Demolition woman, can I be your man (be your man)_ …"

" _Razzle 'n a dazzle 'n a flash a little light_ …" Charlie looked at Hurley in surprise as the other man sang the line. Hurley looked up. "What, dude?" he asked, fingers pausing in their weaving.

"You like Def Leppard?"

"Yeah?"

"I thought you liked Okie music. You know, like, folk and the like."

"It's called eclectic taste, dude. Learn it, love it, be it."

Charlie stared at him for a second longer, then shrugged and went back to his weaving. " _Television lover, baby go all night,_ " he continued, before passing it off to Hurley again.

" _Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet_ …"

" _Little Miss-ah Innocent, come sugar me, yeah-ah!_ " Charlie was getting into the song now. He sat back, using his palm frond as an air guitar. " _Come on! Take a bottle! Shake it up!_ "

" _Break the bubble!_ " Hurley sang, getting to his feet and using the end of his palm leaf as a microphone. " _Break it uuuup!_ "

Charlie grinned and jumped to his feet. This was FUN. He hadn't had fun like this since their last golf game, over a month ago, when Claire had stood off to the side with baby Lori and called encouragements to him across the green. Somehow, this was even BETTER, because he was getting to be a rock star again, even if only in jest.

"Hey, Hurley, check this out," he called over his shoulder as he darted across the small clearing and grabbed hold of a tall, slender tree. Using it ala a stripper's pole, he began to shimmy his back down it's trunk. " _Pouuuur some sugar on me,_ " he sang, casting dark, sultry looks at the surrounding jungle, " _Oooh, in the name of love…_ "

He had to keep himself from bursting into hysterical laughter when Hurley jumped up to another tree and began to mimic him. " _Pouuuuuur some sugar on me, come on fire me up_ ," the larger man sang, doing a lumbering pirouette around the "pole."

Charlie grinned. " _Pouuuur your sugar on me,_ " he continued. " _I can't get enough…!_ " Pouting in his most fetching manner, he pressed up against the tree. " _I'm hot… sticky sweet… from my head, to my feet, yeeeah!_ "

They carried on like that for a while, laughing through the next verse, completely unaware that anyone might actually be WATCHING them. They'd gotten up to _You got the peaches, I got the cream_ and Charlie was half out of his shirt when he realized Hurley wasn't dancing anymore. Hurley was, in fact, staring at the opposite side of the clearing, blushing bright red and looking fidgety. Charlie stopped dancing. "Hurl?" he asked. "You all right?"

"Please, don't stop now," a familiar Australian accent said from behind him. "We're just getting to the fun bit."

Charlie craned his neck around to look over his shoulder. Claire was leaning against a tree on the other side of the glade, a huge grin on her face and a pink Australian $5 bill in her hand. "This and a shiny new penny to the first one in their skivvies," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Uh… hey, Claire," Hurley said, uncharacteristically embarrassed, scratching the back of his neck.

Claire laughed. "Don't worry, Hurley," she said to put him at ease. "I'm actually kind of disappointed you both stopped. I was thinking of charging admission. Our very own Chippendales."

Charlie grinned. "A shiny new penny, huh?" he asked.

Her eyes glittered, and for a second, she looked almost predatory. "You bet."

"This is innuendo, right?" Hurley asked, sounding more sure of himself now that no one had openly laughed at him. "You two are talking to each other in some kind of secret language, thinking I won't pick up on it, right?"

"Yeah, something like that, Hurley," Charlie said, not looking away from Claire.

"Then that, dude, is my cue to hightail it back to the caves." Picking up the remnants of his sleeping mat project, Hurley began to stump back towards the camp. "Dude, you want me to bug you when dinner's served?" he called back before leaving completely.

"Nah, I think we'll be fine," Claire answered, gazing at Charlie through hooded eyes.

"Yeah, Claire especially's gonna be pretty full," Charlie said with a grin, enjoying the pink flush that crept into her cheeks

"Oh, dude, thanks," Hurley complained, heaving a sigh. "I'm gonna have to scour my brain with lye now." Muttering to himself, he set out into the trees, leaving Charlie and Claire alone.

"So, is there a second career you want to tell me about?" she purred as he closed the distance between them, still half out of his shirt.

"What, you mean I never mentioned my job as an exotic dancer at The Pussycat Club?" he asked with wide eyes as he drew abreast of her.

"I think it slipped your mind."

"Well, there you have it."

"Mmm…" She tilted her head up and dropped a quick, searing kiss on his lips. "I think you blinded Hurley with that metaphor," she said with a wink.

He chuckled. "Hurley's a big boy. He'll recover. Where's Lori?"

"With Kate. I left her there so I could find you."

"Well, here I am. And there you are. Let's make some magic happen."

Claire snorted. "What makes you think I'm going to have sex with you anyway? I just saw you dancing erotically with another man. That tends to make a girl question her place in the scheme of things."

Charlie's smile stretched from ear to ear. "You're going to have sex with me because I’m a fine sexy hot specimen of a man," he growled evocatively, shrugging out of the rest of his shirt. Looping the fabric behind her neck, he drew her closer; she came easily, pressing up against his bare chest. "At least, that's what you told me last night. You weren't lying, were you? Because it's my righteous duty to punish naughty girls who lie."

She nuzzled his chin. "Promise?"

He kissed the bridge of her nose. "Scout's honor," he whispered. Then promptly plucked the $5 bill from her fingers and swept her into his arms. "I think I need to teach you a lesson," he said sternly, carrying her through the trees.

"Oooh, I can't wait."

 

\--------------------------------------------

 

"You want me to do WHAT?"

Charlie was sitting on their sleeping mat, still bare chested, back against the cave wall. His feet were propped on a duffel bag and he was idly eating a banana. "You heard me," he said around a mouthful, gesturing to her with the banana. "Go on then. Strip."

Claire crossed her arms and glared at him. "Dominic Charles Pace, I will NOT strip for you. What if someone comes in on us?"

He shrugged, which was more infuriating then anything else, even the cocky grin he threw at her. "They'd have to knock first." He gestured to the makeshift door/curtain that sheltered the entrance to their section of the cave, removed from the main traffic pathways of the other castaways. "And I'd tell them to bugger off."

"You're infuriating, you know that?"

"And adorable, and delicious, and the best sex you've ever had, including with Mr. Asshole Who Won't Be Named But Starts With a T, so if you don't mind, my banana's almost gone and I'm ready for a show. Besides," he raised the bill he'd taken from her earlier and twitched it a couple of times. "I'm paying."

Claire tried to keep up a steady glare, but it was just impossible. Charlie had the uncanny ability to make her go weak in the knees just by flashing a smile and running a hand through his hair in that adorable, childlike manner that made him so dear to her. So it was really no surprise when she felt the corner of her mouth start to hitch up in a smile.

"There you go," he said with a grin. "Good morning, Sunshine."

"I'll make you pay for this, Charlie," she said, but couldn't hold back her smile.

"Oh, I sincerely hope so," he said. "I'm counting on it."

Laughing, she held her arms out to the side. "Fine, fine. You've got me! Now what am I supposed to do?

"Well first you need a name. A porn star name. A nice, tight, warm, tingly-"

"Charlie, you're wandering again."

"Right, right. But you DO need a name."

"Not ALL strippers are porn stars, Charlie. Most of them aren't."

"And not all electricians are cable men, but the ones who are make the world go round. Besides, this is OUR world, and in OUR world, I get to make you a stripper AND a porn star. Understand, Chastity McNasty?"

"Oh, that's horrible."

"I know. Isn't it great?"

She sighed. "Men's minds scare me," she observed. "All right, if I'm Chastity McNasty," she rolled her eyes at that, "who are you?"

"Pimp Daddy Albatross."

"What?"

"Pimp Daddy Albatross. Symbolic. Roll with it."

"Symbolic of what exactly?"

"That I like birds." He gestured to her. "You, bird. See? Now may I please see some skin before I grow old and die?"

Claire laughed. "I've never DONE this before, idiot."

"You've seen movies, right? Elizabeth Berkeley, Demi Moore, Jennifer Beals…" He licked his lips. "Classic cinema."

"If _classic_ means _camp_ ," she mused wryly.

"Apples to apples, oranges to oranges," he tsked. "Look, just strike a pose. There's nothing to it. Vogue."

Claire sighed. "You're hopeless."

"Hopelessly so. Look, you can use that as a pole."

She followed his gesture to a stalagmite on the far side of the cozy cave. Normally they used it to hang their coats. "Really? This... rock thingy?"

"Rock thingy? Claire, you're talking like a porn star already."

She ignored him. "Well, I suppose it IS rather stiff and upright..."

She saw him shift uncomfortably out of the corner of her eye, and couldn't resist a small smile of triumph. "Turgid," he said huskily, clearing his throat. "The term is TURGID, sweet."

"Are we talking about the same thing here?"

"That depends what you're talking about."

"I was talking about the rock."

"Ah... Right. Then no."

Claire laughed. "Honestly, hopeless, hopeless, hopeless." She walked over to the upthrust of rock, then looked back over her shoulder at him. "Isn't there usually music?"

"'Fraid I can't help you there, luv." He sat back and crossed his ankles, a huge grin on his face as he took one last bite of banana.

Claire rolled her eyes and turned her back on him. Resting her hands on the pinnacle of the stalagmite, she took a moment to plan her next move. Odd as this was, it was also strangely exciting. Most of their sexual encounters were quick, hurried things; a swift brush of limbs in the shadows late at night, while Lori slept in her small bed nearby. This foreplay was a treat, and she was feeling the thrill. Already the adrenaline was pumping through her veins like a drug, making her skin tingle and her fingers twitch.

Planting her feet so her legs formed a perfect V, she bent forward, hanging onto the spike of rock. Slowly, making sure he saw every second of it, she drew her body up again, arching her back to the Nth degree, rippling her backbone like a wave until she was upright again. Leaving one hand on the top of the spike, she sauntered around to the other side, dropping low once she was there, her eyes locking with his across the cavern. She was wearing a lime green tank and a pair of denim shorts today, and she'd never been so aware of her limbs before. How smooth and supple her arms were; how lean and muscular her legs had become. Life on the island was difficult, and it hardened a person emotionally a physically. She had been pretty before; now she was beautiful. And for the first time, she was beginning to feel it.

Grinning like a Cheshire Cat, she rose to her feet once more. Hooking her thumbs in the hem of her tank top, she slowly began to inch it up her torso, revealing, inch by inch, her lightly bronzed skin. " _You won't admit you love me,_ " she began to sing, putting as sultry a spin on the Doris Day standard as she could, " _And so, how am I ever to know? You always tell me 'Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.'_ "

The tank had reached the bottoms of her breasts now, and Charlie was watching with glazed eyes. Even in the flickering candlelight, she could see the sweat beading on his upper lip. Power -- it came in all forms. On this island, it was the power of nature that ruled all. But in this cave, she had all the power in the world under this little bitty tank top. Strange how the world worked.

Smiling even wider, she began to amble towards him across the floor of the cave. His eyes followed her like a hawk tracking a vole through prairie grasses. " _A million times I've asked you_ ," she purred, coming to a stop at his feet, tank still at the same point on her torso. " _And then, I ask you over again… You only answer, 'Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.'_ "

Spinning around, she whipped the tank top off over her head, flinging it behind her to land on his face. Turning her head, she watched over her shoulder as Charlie scrabbled to remove the offending material. When he did, he looked stricken, like he'd somehow missed the rest of her show. She blew him a kiss, winked, and continued.

Crossing her arms and cupping her breasts, she slowly rolled her hips in an effortless hula spiral, letting the momentum of the curve turn her around to face him. " _If you can't make your mind up…_ " she sang as she turned, nudging his duffel bag footrest aside with a dainty toe. " _…We'll never get started._ " Slowly she lowered herself to her knees, straddling his calves. " _And I don't want to wind up being parted, broken-hearted…_ "

Edging forward, she sat on his knees and leaned down, nuzzling his stomach and kissing him just below the navel. " _So if you really love me_ …" she whispered, letting her breath coast over his stomach and enjoying the way his ragged breathing sounded so close to her ears. " _…say yes, and if you don't dear,_ " she raised her eyes and met his gaze, " _confess. And please don't tell me…_ " Kiss. " _Perhaps_ ," kiss, " _perhaps_ ," kiss, " _perhaps._ "

Charlie's eyes were smoldering. "You know I love you," he whispered huskily, his hand cupping her cheek. Claire leaned into the touch.

"Perhaps," she murmured.

"No perhaps," he argued softly. "It's never been a perhaps." His hands moved to her arms and he rubbed gently up and down. "What kind of a wanker would I have to be, not to love this beautiful woman?"

Claire closed her eyes, enjoying his touch. When he gently moved her hands away from her breasts, she didn't protest.

 

\--------------------------------

 

The glow cast by the flickering candles in the tiny cavern was molten, and where it fell on her skin, it turned to mellow gold. Charlie's eyes raked over Claire's body, taking in every curve, every nuance, every supple swell and valley. Her breasts alone were a sight to behold. Charlie had always been a breast man. Liam had been an ass man, and a leg man, and a BETWEEN the leg man, but Charlie had ALWAYS been a breast man. There was something warm and fulfilling about the way a woman could fill out a sweater so sinuously. Claire had always had beautiful breasts, by his eyes, and their added fullness since Lori had been born was like a Christmas gift come early.

"I haven't seen you in the light in months, Claire," he murmured, and she shivered when his guitar-calloused fingers grazed over her hardened nipples. "Why did I wait that long?"

Languidly, she opened her eyes again. "Distance makes the heart grow fonder." Taking his wrists, she gently guided his hands underneath her full breasts, moaning low in her throat as he weighed them in his palms and squeezed gently. She arched her back, and Charlie felt his skin twitch as her hands fell onto his stomach, hardened and chiseled by months of difficult living.

"Hello, Lulu," Charlie said, a little shakily, kissing her right breast. Claire giggled. "And you too, Fifi." He kissed her left breast, his beard bristles rubbing against her nipple and making her breath catch. "Long time no see, eh, girls? Well no worry. Charlie's here, and he's going to take good care of you."

"Ooh, you're going to make me jealous," Claire cooed, body flexing as his thumbs idly circled her areolae. She leaned towards him, kissing his chin. "Paying them so much attention and leaving me here in the lurch."

"Now now, Claire, don't be rude to the guests." Charlie grinned and nuzzled her nose. "You may see them all the time, but it's been a while for me, and I want to make sure we're all caught up. Lulu, how's life been treating you?" he addressed her right breast. Then, in a high voice, jiggling her breast a little as though "Lulu" were speaking " _Fine, fine. Yourself?_ Oh, no complaints. How about you, Fifi? _A bit embarrassing, actually._ How so? _I find myself getting aroused easily._ Do you now? Any particular reason why? _Well, you, of course._ Me? Oh, I say, Fifi, that's quite flattering of you. Sorry, got to nip off for a bit, her ladyship seems to be laughing her head off."

Claire was, in fact, in stitches. "Charlie!" she grabbed his face and pressed their foreheads together. "You and your breast obsession!" She kissed him, deeply and passionately and as though she were trying to taste what he'd had for breakfast. After a moment, Charlie let Lulu and Fifi go and wrapped his arms around her waist like a vice, pulling her tight against him and letting his tongue explore the ridges of her teeth.

"Why do you love me so much?" she murmured against his lips a minute later, as his hands grazed down her back to skim along the waistline of her shorts.

"Do you have to ask, luv?" he asked softly.

"No. But I want to know."

Kissing her tenderly, he pushed gently on her stomach until she was sitting up on his knees. Her blue eyes were dark and mystified and deep as oceans. "That's not a question I can answer, sweet," he explained softly, as his fingers worked at the fly of her shorts. "I know I should be able to, but I can't. I can't make myself narrow down my list of reasons to love you, and I can't name them all because it would never stop. I'd start by naming every hair on your head, and every square inch of your skin, and by the time we were done, you'd be mapped out like a Monopoly board and we'd be sixty."

"Will you still love me when I'm sixty?"

"Of course I will. Who else would put up with me for that long?"

Claire laughed, then pushed herself to her feet, still straddling his legs.. "I never got to finish my striptease," she cooed, ruffling his hair. "It was going to be a big finish. Interactive."

He raised an eyebrow. "Interactive, huh?"

"You bet. But first, you have to take your pants off."

"Why?"

"Saves time."

Laughing, he unzipped his jeans and shoved them down his legs, kicking them off and out of the way, leaving him in a pair of black watch tartan boxers. "Better?" he asked up to her.

She grinned. "Excellent. Now, since you were kind enough to get this started for me…" Resting her hands on the waist of her denim shorts, she pushed them slowly down her legs, stepping out of first one side, then the other, and tossing them away like so much refuse. Once she was done, she towered over him in nothing but a pair of black panties and a thin haze of candlelight.

"Mmm, nice view," he approved, nodding. "I could sit here and look at this all day. What do I do now?"

"Take them off."

"Your panties?"

"There's something else?"

Charlie grinned and reached up, but Claire stopped him. "Uh-uh," she tsked. "No hands. With your teeth."

Oh, God, she was trying to kill him. He could smell her already, and it was driving his blood into a frenzy. "That's going to be difficult, at this angle," he said, trying to stave her off.

"Awww, you're creative." Her eyes sparkled wickedly. "Impress me."

Charlie knew he was beat. If he wanted this done, it was best 'twere done quickly, so to speak, or he was going to explode. Well, fine. He could do this. He'd been doing it for years with the groupies -- or variations on the same theme. It was all about angle and leverage.

Leaning forward, he nuzzled her hip, grinning when he heard her sharp intake of breath. The panties were bikini briefs, which were ideal because they had a high, thin hip line; perfect for getting between the teeth. "You'll need your feet closer together, luv," he said against her thigh, nipping at her skin. "Or these are going to rip, and there's not a Victoria's Secret for miles and miles."

Claire gave him a little glare, but moved so she was no longer straddling him, with her feet closer together. "Better?" she asked.

"Perfect," he approved, and moved in.

Grabbing hold of the side of her panties with his teeth, he began to pull. It was important to grab hold in JUST the right spot, or else this was a losing endeavor. Slowly, with great care, he peeled the material down her legs. It was always easiest when you got them past the knees -- then they just fell down of their own accord.

"Good boy," she crooned, running her fingers through his hair and stepping out of the circle of black cotton. "That deserves a reward. What do you want?"

_You mean besides you?_ Charlie let his eyes rake up her body. Oh, dammit, she was perfection. Stretch marks? Bah, what did those matter? This was CLAIRE. HIS Claire.

"I could hold onto your panties," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "Keep 'em rolled up in my pocket for when I haven't seen you in a few minutes. Take them out, touch them, squeeze them, remember who was in them…" He winked at her.

Claire laughed. "Charlie, I love you," she said with an easy smile.

"Glad we've established THAT at last. Wouldn't want to think you were sleeping with me just for my godlike physique."

She sank to her knees over him again, the heat at the junction of her legs pressing against his thighs and making him groan. "Mmm…" she murmured, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck and kissing him langurously. "The body's just a bonus."

Charlie smiled against her mouth, darting out his tongue to taste her lips. "I think I'm overdressed, don't you?" His hand slid from her back to snap the waist of his boxers.

"I can remedy that situation, if you'd like."

"Would you be so kind?"

"It would be my pleasure."

Charlie closed his eyes, feeling his muscles go lax as Claire kissed her way down his torso. When she paused to lave his nipples with her catlike tongue, he moaned. When she blew into his navel, he shivered. When her Chiclet teeth nipped at his hip, he jumped. Slender fingers slid into the elasticated waist of his boxers, tugging gently. "Up," he heard her urge through a haze of lusty white noise, and obligingly raised his hips away from the mat so she could pull off the last shred of his clothing. He felt her body shimmying down his legs, and it was murder.

"Off," she narrated as she tugged the boxers over his feet and away. Charlie allowed his eyes to open and gazed down his body to her. She was surrounded by the golden candlelight, making her cornsilk hair shimmer, and he thought she could be a nymph in a painting by Botticelli or Bougereau. Odd, he'd forgotten about art on this island. Not so odd he remembered it while looking at Claire; she was classic.

"Come 'ere," he slurred dreamily, gesturing for her to come back to him. Claire smiled -- light! -- and slid her body up his legs, grazing her breasts against his thighs, coasting her smooth stomach over his knees.

"You called, Albatross?" she teased, stroking her fingers through the hair at his temple as her body came to rest, belly to belly, against his own.

"I have a secret," he whispered, kissing one eye, then the other, feeling her lashes flutter shut against his lips.

"Yes…?" Her voice was breathy and faraway as she flattened her palms against his shoulders.

"I need you."

She giggled and opened her eyes. "That's a secret?" she asked with an impish smile.

He nudged her cheek with his nose and dropped a kiss on the corner of her mouth. "No, but _how much_ is." He rested his forehead on her shoulder, a little surprised at how emotional he felt. "God, promise you're not going to disappear like smoke someday, all right? Promise this isn't some dream that I'm going to wake up from and still be a druggie playing clubs in Sheffield. Just… promise me."

She kissed his ear and rubbed his arms firmly. "I promise," she whispered. A kiss on his shoulder. "I promise, Charlie."

He managed a shaky laugh. "Listen to me, would you?" he joked awkwardly. "Nancy boy."

Claire sat back and gazed into his eyes. Cupping his face, she ran a thumb over his cheekbone, eyes soft, smile even softer. Leaning forward again, she caught his lips in a warm, silky kiss, opening her mouth to him as her fingers skimmed down his body to his pelvis. He gasped into her mouth as she took him in hand, and she kissed him deeper, her body positioning itself out of habit and practice. He pressed up into her hand, his arms wrapping around her waist as she sank backwards. With a mutual moan of contentment, he felt her warmth start to envelope him, and no stars had EVER been as bright as the ones that started to dance in front of his eyes.

 

\------------------------------------

 

Charlie was a rock star. Charlie knew rock star moves. It had taken Claire a while to draw out of him just HOW MANY sexual partners he'd had, and when he eventually told her the final number, she was a little surprised but not shocked. He assured her he was clean, STD free, and that he knew about a hundred ways to blow her mind. Claire had slept with three guys -- she was pretty sure just one would be enough. Less was, after all, more.

Unless you were sleeping with Charlie Pace -- then more was DEFINITELY more.

But when it came right down to it, the sweetest position -- the one she loved the most -- was eye to eye, her body on top, watching his face flex with ardor as she rocked her hips and set the pace. Fight as she may, she could never keep her eyes from shutting reflexively as his first thrust pushed into her; but after that she made herself watch him, hands balanced on his shoulders, enjoying the play of his corded muscles as they rippled under her palms.

Today was no different. Charlie's hands were gripping her thighs, squeezing with each thrust as she moved on top of him. "Oh… GOD, I love you," he panted.

Claire laughed breathlessly, twitching a damp tendril of hair out of her eyes with a swish of her head. "Bet you say that… to all the girls," she gasped, then moaned as he leaned forward to press his face into her chest, sucking on the tender skin between her breasts..

"Nope…oh, shit, yes, right there… gyah!….Nope, just you…!" he moaned.

"Mmmm… Now I feel special…"

"You should. You arrrrrgh…" His voice trailed off into a garbled moan as she raked her nails down his back, knowing how much he loved the sting.

Claire's breath was coming faster now. Leaning back a little, she started to move her hips faster. "YessSS..!" she exclaimed. "R…Right there, Charlie! Ohhhh gawwwwd…!" Her nails dug into his arms and she heard him hiss from a mix of pain and pleasure.

In her mind, she always saw a waterfall, and she was in a canoe. Her stomach was a churning mix of emotions -- excitement, anticipation, even a little fear -- and her muscles bunched in preparation. The sound roared in her ears, a mix of pounding water and her thundering heart. The Edge drew ever closer, and her skin was wet, and her eyes were sparkling, and when she went over, she was going to DIVE; she was going to DIVE, and she was going to sink like a stone and let the water wash her clean.

She screamed a little as Charlie's hand touched her, rubbing the tight nubbin of her clit. "Almost, luv," he panted, drawing her out of her imaginings to focus on his face again. His hair was plastered to his forehead, eyes bright. "Almost…"

Almost was an understatement. Her canoe had been caught up by the current, and now she was rocketing towards that waterfall. She could see it getting closer, and she knew -- just KNEW -- that Charlie was waiting for her at the bottom, to catch her when she fell.

A low moan had started in the bottom of her throat, and was steadily working its way to the top. She could hear Charlie puffing like a wolf at the door, and the image was so comical, she almost laughed. But the moan was choking off all other sound, and it was at the top of her throat now, and SOMEONE was going to hear her, no matter how hard she tried to stop. "ChaaaarliiiIIIEE…!" she groaned, voice spiraling up into a desperate keen as her body started to tense. "CHARLIE! CHAAARLIE!"

He jerked underneath her, a choked groan passing his lips. "Claire…!" he gasped. His fingers redoubled their motion between her legs. "Come on, Claire…"

The world blacked out. The waterfall was HERE.

She shot over the edge and shrieked as the water took her, warmth rushing through her body as her limbs convulsed and her back spasmed. Whimpering, teeth digging into her bottom lip as she fought for breath, she let the tremors take her over, and slumped forward, pressing her face into his throat and moaning against his racing pulse. "Oh… Oh, God…"

He chuckled breathlessly. "That was… pretty good…"

Claire thumped a feeble fist against his arm, laughing weakly. "Modesty… How attractive…"

"You think so?" He wiggled his hips, making her squeal and jump, and heard him snicker. "Yep."

Nipping at his collarbone to teach him a lesson, she flipped her head over so she was looking dreamily at his profile. His eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily. Their slick bodies were plastered together by a thin sheen of sweat, and for a minute she let herself enjoy how it made him sparkle, dewing his lashes and the bristles of his beard. Soon enough, though, she felt his breathing evening out and knew he was falling asleep, even propped up against the uncomfortable cave wall.

"Hey," she whispered, prodding him gently in the stomach. "Lie down. You'll throw your back out sleeping like that."

"Mmm…" He didn't seem very interested in moving.

"Come on. I'll go with you."

Gritting her teeth, she slowly pulled away from him, moaning a little as he left her body. Charlie's fingers clutched at her limply, and she giggled, taking his wrists and pulling him forward. "Come on," she urged again, tilting him onto his side. He went easily, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her down beside him. Claire let herself be moved, resting her head on his outstretched arm. The air of the cave was cool on their moist skin, and she reached behind her to grab their folded blanket, pulling it over them. Charlie sighed happily and snuggled under the warm fleece.

Claire grinned. "Comfortable?"

"You going to move?"

"Not yet, no."

"Then yep."

She laughed and kissed his forehead, running her fingers through his hair and resting her chin on the top of his head. "You know, all of this was based on a false premise," she observed quietly.

"Hmmm…?"

"You thought I was lying when I said you were a fine sexy hot specimen of a man. I wasn't."

He chuckled. "Oops."

She giggled, closing her eyes and letting his rhythmic breathing encourage her drowsiness. "I'm not complaining," she murmured.

A light kiss on her collarbone was her only answer. Less than a minute later she knew he was fast asleep.

Sighing happily, she let her mind wander. She'd have to go get Lori from Kate soon, though the little girl didn't get to visit her adoptive aunt often enough. No doubt someone -- probably Hurley or Shannon -- had heard their tryst, and inevitably they'd be the talk of the camp for a week. That would require a bit of damage control. Then there was the question of pregnancy -- always a danger on the island, without the benefit of prophylactics. Did she really care? Not much. Lori would love a baby brother or sister, and Claire knew what to expect this time around. And if anything went wrong, her Charlie was there to help.

She sighed again. Too much thought; she always thought too much. Sometimes it was nice to just enjoy the moment for what it was. Charlie was a master of it; sometimes she wondered how he managed it.

Cuddling closer to Charlie under the blanket, she cooed when she felt his arm tighten reflexively around her waist, keeping her close. "Don't worry, Charlie," she murmured, moving down a little so she could rest her forehead against his. "I'm not going away. Promise." Kissing his nose, she closed her eyes sleepily. Lori would be having fun with her extended family right now, and Claire wouldn't know for at least a month if she was pregnant. And as for damage control… She could hear Charlie in her head, clear as a bell.

_Let 'em talk._

 

 

**THE END**


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